


just a line to you

by sparksfulltime



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparksfulltime/pseuds/sparksfulltime
Summary: short pieces that don't fit anywhere else:3 // “It’s like a Hallmark store up there,” she says, and Jimmy turns from his place in front of his open locker. “This holiday never evolves from elementary school, huh?”
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Kim Wexler
Comments: 28
Kudos: 49





	1. attaboy, jimmy

Jimmy rouses slowly, instinctively throwing an arm out for Kim and finding only air, the low drone of the television and distant clinking of dishes bringing into focus the fact that he’s fallen asleep on the couch. 

He opens his eyes and drowsily realizes he’s been covered in a blanket as he turns his head to the TV screen, blinking against the brightness of a young Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed walking home under the black and white light of the moon.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kim glance over from where she stands in front of the sink, sudsy hands placing a wet plate in the drying rack before she switches the water off and wipes her hands on her jeans, socked feet padding into the living room. He watches her approach as she comes to stand above him, her head quirking to one side before she reaches for the empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

“Already falling asleep right after dinner, old man?” She teases, glass clinking as she snatches up the bottlenecks in one hand, using the other to straighten the small tower of Blockbuster cases resting precariously on the edge of the table.

“I told you it was too early in the season for _It’s A Wonderful Life_ ,” he tries to grumble, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “I wasn’t ready yet.”

“And _I_ told _you_ we had to get it before all of the copies were rented every weekend,” she shrugs, reaching for the remote to raise the volume before she heads back into the kitchen. Jimmy closes his eyes once more, the sound of running water and muted _thunk_ of the bottles being tossed into the recycling a comforting lull against the sound of the film.

_What is that you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey, that’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon, Mary._

_I’ll take it. Then what?_

He feels the couch dip and opens his eyes again to see Kim perching gingerly on the edge of the cushion, fingertips clasping a cupcake with a single candle stuck in the middle. The tiny flame makes her grin seem lit up from within despite the shadows it’s throwing across her face, and Jimmy lets the blanket fall from his chest as he sits up, scooting closer towards her.

“What?” He hears himself ask dumbly and Kim laughs, arms extending towards him.

“Make a wish,” she says as he carefully accepts the offering and he holds it out between them, his gaze sliding to the wax dripping slowly down the side of the blue-and-white-striped candle. Kim watches him for a moment and then waves her hands, gesturing impatiently.

Jimmy takes a deep breath and exhales, a thin trail of smoke rising between them as Kim claps before lacing her fingers together, knuckles coming to rest under her chin as she beams at him, clearly pleased. Jimmy’s chest tightens as he regards her over the extinguished candle and he watches her smile grow softer, hands slipping down to her lap.

She delicately takes the cupcake from his grip, placing it on the table as she moves closer, palms coming to rest on his thighs over the blanket, lightly squeezing as she leans her face close to his.

“Happy birthday, Jimmy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to get some absolute schmaltz in just under the wire for our dear jimbo's birthday :)


	2. painted me golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You drive a hard bargain, counselor,” Jimmy says, and he watches the tint in her cheeks darken almost imperceptibly in the shadow of the bar. “But I, too, will have a law degree in a mere month, so I submit a counteroffer: How about a dance?”

“Okay, now those two,” Jimmy gestures at the edge of the sparsely populated dance floor towards a man and a woman swaying together off-beat, slowly turning in a circle as the man rests his head against the side of the woman’s hair, eyes closed. The rocks glass in her hand presses into the back of the man’s dress shirt, condensation creating a bloom of moisture against light blue stripes.

Kim absentmindedly kicks her leg, heel clanging against the stool’s foot rest as she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and studies them. 

“It’d have to be about her,” she says slowly, all ten fingers gripping the neck of her beer bottle, slouching over the table slightly. “He _loves_ his...” she pauses, squinting. “Wife? No, fiancée. Of course.”

Jimmy takes a swig of his drink, looking to the couple before his gaze drifts back to Kim. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she echoes, loosening her grip on her drink. “You can feel it with some guys, you know? There’s an inexplicable energy.”

He studies the outline of Kim’s profile from across the table, observes the shadows shifting around the slope of her nose and the blonde hair escaping her ponytail. The bar’s air conditioning is just barely blowing around her hairline, and he watches the strands skim against her temple.

“Sure,” he says comfortably, and her eyes drift over to his, the dance floor’s pulsing pink and purple lights reflecting in them like crackling fireworks. “So how would you do it?”

Her smile is a single pursed line, and Jimmy watches the edges slip up and down her slightly flushed cheeks. 

“We start with Billy Joel on the jukebox,” she pushes her beer away, flattening her palms against the table. “Any one of the choices will be her favorite, and she’ll get into it. Can you see the arms flailing yet?”

The edges of Jimmy’s lips curl up, and Kim pauses again to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

“All I need to do is bump into her and spill a bit down my front. Just enough to get me noticeably wet — no,” she puts one finger up in his direction without looking and then makes a swatting motion with her hand as if to wave away the unspoken innuendo. “Just enough that she thinks it was her fault, and feels bad.”

Jimmy nods, eyes following hers as they swing back to the couple.

“I’d have to play it with exactly the right amount of irrationality. Really take her by surprise with how indignant I am. One, maybe two snippy comments about how much this blouse cost and he’d offer to pay for our next round within fifteen seconds simply to get me off her back.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hums, considering, then turns to look at her. “Dunno. I prefer the last option where no one has to get sticky.”

She grabs her bottle and throws back a final sip of beer, the empty glass rattling against wood as she sets it down. “How about we just do the next round on you, then?”

“You drive a hard bargain, counselor,” Jimmy says, and he watches the tint in her cheeks darken almost imperceptibly in the shadow of the bar. “But I, too, will have a law degree in a mere month, so I submit a counteroffer: How about a dance?”

She snorts in response, but Jimmy begins to ease himself off the stool, and her head suspiciously angles to one side as he turns to walk in the direction of the jukebox.

“Jimmy,” she warns. “No, what are you doing?”

He ignores the question when he turns back to face her, wobbling his hips and extending his arms out to either side as he rocks his shoulders. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” She hisses from the table, leaning forward as if she can reach out and grab him. “Get back here.”

“C’mon, Kim, I’ll be going into a study cave for weeks. One dance,” he pleads, holding both arms out to her now, bopping his head as she buries her face in her hands. “This isn’t going to stop until you get up.”

She sighs, letting her arms fall before shimmying down from the stool, tugging on her skirt as she stalks towards him. Jimmy’s eyes glance down when she stops just short of running into him, tongue instinctively darting out to lick his lips, but Kim pulls back equally as abruptly, trapping his wrists between them.

“I think you’ve had one too many.”

Jimmy grunts when she turns to pull them back to the table, swerving his body in the other direction and tugging her after him, her grip on his wrists momentarily slackening as she stumbles. He snags one arm around the waist, the fingers of his other hand expertly twining through hers as he clasps her palm, elegantly spinning them in a circle.

Kim tightens her lips when they come to a stop, face inches from his, their previous momentum still rocking them back and forth. “I can’t stand you.”

“Fine,” Jimmy grins, twirling them and lowering his arms to dip Kim towards the floor at the same time, eliciting a tiny shriek as her free arm shoots up to grip his bicep. Her mouth is a shocked _O_ when he rights their bodies, blonde wisps of hair briefly floating beside her head in the split-second before gravity kicks in.

Her laugh takes him by surprise, a low giggle bubbling out of the back of her throat, and she closes her eyes, shakes her head before wriggling her hand out of his grip. He’s prepared to concede and waits for her to begin backing away, but instead she slings both arms around his neck, burying her face against his skin.

“We look so stupid,” she declares, the words muffled, but she begins to match the beat of his hips instead of dragging her feet, their bodies easily finding a common rhythm.

After a moment, he feels a puff of air against his cheek as she steps away from him and throws one arm straight up in the air, making direct eye contact before tossing her hips to one side and then the other in an exaggerated imitation of Jimmy’s earlier moves.

He lets out a chuckle, delighted, and her own smile stretches widely across her cheeks as she rolls her torso from side to side, her body smooth and fluid despite the goofy movements. Jimmy’s eye is drawn to a spot where the hem of her shirt has come untucked, a small patch of bare midriff peeking out as she stretches her arms upwards.

He instantly wants nothing more than a way to capture this moment in time, to create a tangible reminder of her looking so untethered and free, but it strikes him that he’s not quite sure who for. The rest of the bar starts to swirl around him despite the sudden realization that he’s standing stupidly in place; and he can’t exactly pin it on the alcohol or the spinning, but Kim is somehow the only thing in his field of vision that looks stable and clear.

“So,” she says, her face suddenly inches from his once more, eyes burning a brilliant, combustible blue. “Tell me how’d you’d read us.”


	3. don't lawyers feel love too?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s like a Hallmark store up there,” she says, and Jimmy turns from his place in front of his open locker. “This holiday never evolves from elementary school, huh?”

Kim’s usual route is a maze of heart-shaped balloons floating over the tops of cubicles, arrangements of roses speckled with baby’s breath perched haphazardly on the edges of desks that are already covered in piles of folders. Dropping a rubber-banded pile of white envelopes in someone’s basket, she eyes a particularly tall mylar cupid holding out a heart that says _Happy Valentine’s Day!_ in awful white cursive, the balloon’s height causing it to catch in the air conditioning and jerk back and forth erratically, a messenger caught in limbo. 

She can barely see the associate sitting at the next desk behind the double bouquets of flowers, so she sticks an arm out gingerly in the direction of the mail basket, the edge of the manila envelope in her hands hitting something soft. She crouches slightly to peer through the space and sees a tuft of white fur, eyebrows knitting together until she realizes: stuffed bear.

“Um.” Kim straightens again, peeking around some white roses. “Mail?”

“Oh!” She hears rustling behind the flowers and a blonde head sheepishly pops out, holding out a hand for the envelope. “I’ll take it.”

She hands it over and the associate murmurs a thank you, gesturing towards the floral display.

“Valentine’s Day when you’re seeing two different guys,” she says, rolling her eyes as she places the delivery onto a pile of papers. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah.” Kim smiles politely, already moving onto the next cubicle. “Enjoy your night.”

She makes the rest of her late afternoon route as quickly as she can, gritting her teeth through a respectful answer when a junior associate leeringly asks about her plans for the night and waving away an offer of chocolate from the maternal secretary in accounting.

The approaching whir of the monochromatic mailroom feels comforting after the sea of red and pink upstairs, and she releases a deep breath, the wheels of her cart skidding against the carpeted floor as she parks it behind the others.

“It’s like a Hallmark store up there,” she says, and Jimmy turns from his place in front of his open locker. “This holiday never evolves from elementary school, huh?”

“What d’ya mean?” 

“The hearts, the balloons, the cupids,” she gestures broadly. “It’s the exact same thing we’ve been doing since the third grade, just as adults.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t have anything _against_ it,” she protests, making her way across the room. “But in the workplace it just feels like an exhausting contest of people screaming: _Look at how much someone loves me!_ ”

“Yeah,” Jimmy intones gravely, closing his locker with a _clang_. “Without Mrs. McMahon around to make sure everyone gets a heart-shaped lollipop, it’s pure romantic anarchy.”

She purses her lips, leveling him with a stare before swerving into the kitchenette and beginning to empty the day’s soggy coffee grounds into the trash, reaching for a new filter. She hears a shuffling sound behind her as she scoops fresh grounds out of the canister and glances back to see Jimmy loitering in the doorway, messenger bag slung over one shoulder. 

“I guess it’s nice for them, though,” Jimmy says thoughtfully. “Getting to feel appreciated.”

“Jimmy,” she deadpans, turning towards him to rest her weight against the counter. “Are you feeling undervalued at HHM?”

“Me? Never.” He grins, shifting his windbreaker under his other arm. “My name’s practically on the door, what more could I want?”

The coffee pot gurgles to life, and Jimmy glances towards it knowingly before his gaze comes back to Kim.

“Big plans tonight, then?”

“Oh, yes.” Kim turns to the drying rack to reach for a mug. “Me and Advanced Tort Litigation. Gonna get ahead on some reading before I have to be on campus.”

She thinks she sees him begin to open his mouth out of the corner of her eye but when she turns around, he’s throwing his jacket over his shoulders instead, pushing off the door frame.

“Good luck,” he says sympathetically. “Page me if the date goes sour and you need rescuing. Which, based on the company, I can only imagine—”

“See you tomorrow, Jimmy,” she cuts him off, smiling.

He grins back, waving over his shoulder at her. “Night.”

She sets the mug down on the counter before going out to her own locker, distractedly grabbing for the textbook inside before noticing the tiny square sitting on top. It flutters to the floor and when Kim bends down to pick it up, she realizes it’s a Valentine from a drugstore pack, reminiscent of the ones her mom used to gripe about having to buy for her classmates. 

She gently tears the sticker holding the sides of the card together and opens it to find Garfield holding up a finger at her, the other hand hovering over his heart and a woozy expression on his cartoon face. _Happy Valentine’s Day!_ reads bright red text across the top, with a smaller message below: _You have to kiss me now. It’s a law._

The letter J scrawled at the very bottom is the only personalization but despite the corny message, she feels a flush crawl up into her cheeks, her feet rooted in place. She stares down at the card until the coffee maker startles her out of her trance, the familiar beep signaling that her fresh pot is ready.

Kim takes a deep breath, the aroma of coffee bringing her back to the mailroom and she reaches for her textbook again, nudging the locker shut.

Looking between the two items in her hands, she hesitates for a moment before opening the book and sliding the note inside, lips quirking upwards as the pages fall closed around the colorful pattern, tucking it carefully away against the orderly blocks of text.


End file.
